


Coming Home

by deathwailart



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/F, Femslash February, Implied Sexual Content, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 20:54:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3354956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathwailart/pseuds/deathwailart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hjördís has been gone too long and Aela is more than happy to see her back at Jorrvaskr.</p>
<p>Written for a tumblr prompt: hjordis/aela where one of them is away from Jorrvaskr for a while and the other is just really happy when they get back?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Home

Breezehome lies as empty as Aela's bed when Hjördís is away, solitary hunts and prayers to Hircine in the Underforge, Aela's beast blood wild and angry when the other Nord is gone. Back before there was Skjor but he's dead now, Kodlak too, Vilkas and Farkas cured and the wolves of Whiterun cower when Aela lopes past, her blood singing. Hjördís runs with her when she's here or they're roaming Skyrim together on some errand or other but she's too many things to too many people; Aela wants to be selfish and petty, wants to pin Hjördís down with her teeth at her throat, growling out a demand for her to stay or to always take Aela along with her. She'd never, she values her own freedom too much and she'd never restrict someone else's, least of all when it's Hjördís but it's an idea. Besides, Jorrvaskr is Aela's home and she needs to be here when she's not hunting or working. Her mother, her mother's mother and on and on, they've all lived beneath this roof and maybe some of them shared a Harbinger's bed as well like Aela does. But not alone. It doesn't feel right to sleep in it alone, catching Hjördís' scent and wanting her back here where she should be, so she sleeps in her single bed across from Skjor's empty room. Hjördís runs with too many, decides Skyrim's fate. Aela doesn't want to be involved with assassins and thieves, mages and bards. There are more daedra than just Hircine too, there are even the divines; Hjördís has a hand in everything.  
  
Still, she always comes home to Aela. Everyone breathes a little easier then, not just because it's good and right to have their Harbinger back with them but because Aela knows she's surlier to be around. They give her more solo jobs, pass on leads about all sorts of hunters, keep her and Njada apart and if someone has to come with her, it's the twins, Vilkas smart enough to keep his thoughts to himself, Farkas strong enough to take a punch.  
  
In the end, she's not there for Hjördís returning.  
  
Three frost trolls move into a cave and the local hunters put in a request, a fat purse of gold coins and a frost troll is a true challenge, something to sink her teeth into and she comes back to Whiterun a few arrows lighter, troll fat in her pack and a sluggishly bleeding wound on her thigh from a lucky swipe. She earned her gold today and the glory she's brought herself and her Companions, intent on meat and mead, scrubbing herself and then seeing if the wound needs tending to when she swings open the door to stop and stare like some damned slack-jawed fool. The daedric armour is unmistakable – Aela was there when she made it at the Skyforge, talking late into the night as the pieces took shape – as is Hjördís herself, sitting at the table and laughing with Farkas, her sword and helm on the table. It's a fair day, everyone else is probably outside, training or drinking and talking except for the three of them as Aela stands still, like a deer staring down a hunter until Farkas moves, chair scraping against the stone floor. He might make a joke but Aela can only hear her own heart and familiar laughter at whatever Farkas said before the door closes and she just about keeps hold of her pack. She's back. She's back and laughing at the table, red war paint smudged across her cheeks from that damned ridiculous helm that she snags in the same hand as her sword as she almost runs across the room to clatter into Aela, swinging her around because she's as tall as most of the men and as broad at the shoulders, muscled from the heavy armour and large weapons and Aela laughs, all her plans flying out the window. She has just enough presence of mind to tell her to be careful with her bow before she's pulled into a kiss, Hjördís bending down as Aela leans up on her toes, fingers finding a hold anywhere she can on the armour, not even caring when the wounds on her thigh are opened again. Hjördís smells the blood and pulls back, her eyes and smile hungry.  
  
Tilma says nothing when they run down the stairs, pawing at one another, she's seen it all before, there isn't anything new about this, not even when Aela is lifted up in strong arms, her legs locked around Hjördís' hips, trusting memory alone so that they make it safely to the end of the hall, kicking every door behind them. No one will come looking unless there's a dragon attack or something similarly untoward and they immediately drop their weapons and pack as soon as they're inside anyway.  
  
"Missed you," Aela murmurs when she's set down, still nose to nose with Hjördís, "you should be here more."  
  
"Ulfric-"  
  
"Fuck Ulfric and his Stormcloaks," she snaps, interrupting whatever explanation Hjördís is likely to give as her fingers find the catches on her armour, removing it quickly and without care.  
  
Hjördís laughs and shakes her head, wriggling her fingers as soon as the gauntlets are gone and it makes her hands look unbelievably small somehow. "There's only one person I want to fuck," she says because there's a time for romance and it's not when she's been gone this long and when Aela is fresh off a hunt and the smell of blood in the air.  
  
"You always know just what to say dear," she replies, nipping at Hjördís' neck before she moves back to let her get out of the rest of the armour without falling over. She's glad her own is a much more simple affair and she's naked and on the bed while the other woman is still kicking removing her boots. She could help, usually she does, she likes to peel her out of it slowly because it makes Hjördís shiver and let out all these soft little noises but it's been a long time and she could have who she wanted but Hjördís is the only one she wants these days and sometimes those old sayings are right about how the wanting and the waiting make it sweeter.  
  
Aela is a huntress and her weapon is the bow, she's used to being patient.  
  
Still, the instant Hjördís wriggles out of the last of her underwear she grabs for her wrist and pulls her down to the bed, neatly flipping them over so she's above her. She could pin her down. She could growl and bite and hold her down, this Dragonborn and Harbinger and whatever other titles Skyrim knows her as because she's here in bed with Aela, strong hands on her hips. And it's not as if Aela hasn't missed her because she has, she's spent too many nights alone with just her hands and memories and her imagination and now she's got the real thing here and a heat and hunger low in her belly.  
  
She leans down and stretches out on top of Hjördís, lips and not teeth at her throat and it's not a growl that leaves her but something close to a sigh. "I missed you," she says quietly, letting Hjördís shift just enough to slip her thigh between Aela's, mindful of the wound. "You were gone too long."  
  
"I know, I know," Hjördís replies softly, hands rubbing Aela's back as she rolls her hips and it's not slow and languid, the kind of thing they'd usually just do to tease one another and it's perfect. "I was headed back from business with the College when a courier came, something about discovering Imperial camps."  
  
"You're heading out again?" Aela stills, watching Hjördís with careful eyes and the woman nods. "How long are you staying then?"  
  
"A few nights, I was hoping you'd want to come with me." Her smile is bright, almost innocent. Her thigh presses more surely against Aela and she moans.  
  
"You really _do_ know what to say, don't you?"  
  
"Enough talking, I'd rather show you just how much I missed you when I was away."  
  
In the end, it's Hjördís who growls and does the holding down but Aela's not one for complaining, not when Hjördís is so very good at everything she puts her mind to.


End file.
